


Envying Angels

by Rosie_Rues



Category: Arthurian Legend
Genre: Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2007, recipient:Elerrina Rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-22 19:37:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosie_Rues/pseuds/Rosie_Rues





	Envying Angels

Percival's voice is deep and still soft with the country cadence of his youth. Galahad listens and pretends to sleep.

Galahad knows that real soldiers, real knights, seize sleep where they can, but Percival is as excited as he is about this quest. Neither of them sleep easily, and when they do they dream of the Grail, floating in the air above them, ever elusive.

The trees are dripping, slow cold tears on his face. An owl cries in the distance. His horse moves, breath huffing out. There is a faint scuffling in the roots of a nearby tree. Percival is telling him about the first time he saw knights riding by.

"...and I thought they were angels, honest to God, I did. All riding by in their shining armour with the sunlight blazing around them. I truly thought that if I could strip their armour off, I'd see wings rising out of their back. Can you imagine that, Galahad?"

Galahad imagines Percival as an angel with white feathers stroking his smooth sides. He's seen Percival naked, when they've bathed in the mornings, and he knows his friend hasn't started collecting scars yet. He is all lean muscle and sun-kissed skin, and Galahad is _never_ going to achieve the Grail, not if he keeps thinking of angels like that.

"And I followed them through the forest," Percival is saying, and he sound closer now, as if he's so eager to share this story he's rolled over to sit above Galahad and taunt him with the faint scent of his sweat and effort, dried on him after a day of riding. "I followed them all day, and then, before they lay down to sleep that night, they took their armour off and washed themselves in the river and I could see that they had the form of men. Strong and powerful men, surely, but men all the same."

Galahad always sleeps on his back, hands crossed over his chest to protect him against temptation. He wasn't sure what temptation he was guarding against until Percival started talking to him in the nights. Now he presses his fingers into his shoulders as his cock throbbed and swelled between his legs.

He imagines that he had been the one Percival was watching, imagines hearing a rustle in the bushes and striding out of the water to drag the watching boy into the light; imagines stripping the dull, country clothes off him and washing him in the clear stream, the water sliding over strong shoulders and muscled thighs.

He digs his nails in and opens his eyes, staring unblinking at the moon.

"...and I offered to serve them in any way," Percival is murmuring, voice wistful and dreamy.

If he stares at the moon hard enough, it might become the Grail. A vision might save him from this terrible temptation.

To achieve the Grail, he must be without sin. To lie with a woman, the nuns had taught him, was sin, carnal and forbidden. He had never thought to lie with a man until he came to Camelot, and heard whispers of it, mocking, leering whispers.

"Galahad?" Percival whispers, and he must be close enough to see Galahad's shame by now. "Are you awake?"

Galahad closes his eyes and keeps his breathing slow.

"I wish I had your discipline, brother," Percival murmurs, voice warm with affection. "It's a cold night to be awake alone."

Cold? Galahad is on fire, and it isn't his soul that's burning with desire.

A weight settles at his back, and a firm arm slides around his waist. Galahad wonders how soon Percival will hear the thunder of his pulse. All sin will be uncovered, he knows, and the thought of discovery both terrifies him and sends more heat flushing over his body. If he turns now, he could press Percival down into the soft earth and thrust against him, strength meeting strength.

Percival shifts, resettling, and his hand slips lower. His palm brushs over Galahad's cock and Galahad bites into his lip, tasting bitter blood.

"Ah," Percival says sadly, his hand closing for a moment before he moves it away. "At least you're human in your sleep."

Then he wraps his arm chastely around Galahad's waist and puts his head down again. Galahad feels his breathing slow into sleep.

Yearning, Galahad watches the moon and hopes with all his soul that he will find the Grail soon, before it becomes impossible to live without sin.

  



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